


While We're Young

by MadeofLilies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Heartbreak, Male-Female Friendship, Road Trip, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-05-14 01:01:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14759615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadeofLilies/pseuds/MadeofLilies
Summary: Sometimes you lose yourself and find someone else in the process.





	1. Home

Bill sits comfortably on the worn-out chair in the kitchen, legs hoisted up on the table seeing that his mother is nowhere around him. He flicks another page of ‘The Daily Prophet’ and inhales slowly, breathing in the smell of freshly baked goods and floor polish that surrounds him. 

The scent of molten sugar attacks his nose then and as if on instinct, his hand reaches for the large glass container on the counter behind him. His mouth waters at the sight of the sugar-coated almonds that stay there untouched in all their colorful glory.

With the skill of a typical Weasley raised and trained for this very task, Bill makes quick work of sneaking a handful of them out the jar and into the pockets of his dragon-printed pajama bottoms that look a little too small for his size. _Not surprising considering they’re stolen from Charlie’s old things._

There are even candle wax stains still showing on the sleeves from all the times he’d lie awake late at night and write down his latest findings with a passion Bill had never seen before.

The doorbell rings and he almost jolts at the sudden, piercing sound. Such peaceful silence had prevailed over the house before; something unlikely for the Weasley residence, to say the least. His mother’s downstairs folding laundry and for once, the twins hide quietly in their bedroom, not wreaking havoc in the rest of the house. Whatever they’re planning, they’re being _sneaky_ this time.

The ring sounds gain and Bill can’t help but cringe at how loud that sound is. It’s been that way ever since Fred came up with his brilliant plan about pranking their poor parents and absolutely ruined the whole entire system in the process. Ever since it’s been considered a torture device inside the Weasley threshold - that’s how Ginny likes to call it at least - and Bill can’t help but agree with that statement. Still, none bothers to get it fixed so it remains this way. 

_They’ll get used to it someday, perhaps._

“William! Could you come down for a second, dear?”

His eyes roll to the back of his head at the sound of his full name; William. What an absolute nuisance it’s always been, especially so considering only a specific few would ever call him that these days. His mother just happens to be inside that list.

An awful lot of dramatic sighs and dragged feet down the stairs later, Bill’s standing on the last step with hands buried in his pockets as if to ensure the hidden sweets have not escaped.

“Mum, if this is about getting that dye stain out of the carpet, I’ve told you a million times I have no idea how it got th-” his breath seizes rather quickly upon lifting his gaze to meet the figure standing in the doorway.

“Now, now. You’ve always been quite the talker, Mr.Weasley. I suppose old habits never die.”

You’re standing there with sparkling eyes and a smile bright enough to light the room and its darkness and Billy almost loses his footing right then as he takes in the sweetness of your grin and the couple of bags that lie forgotten by your feet.

Before he knows it, he’s walking towards you and his arms scoop you up like a child until you’re safely tucked inside his loving embrace and he can squeeze for as long as he’d like, as if to make up for lost time. The sudden contact makes you yelp but you laugh, wrapping both your arms around his neck as if to keep yourself from falling, as much as you know he’d never let you fall.

Bill’s eyes slide shut and he tries his best to ground himself at the moment, taking in your scent that he almost forgot in the years of your absence. _It’s still the same; floral, sweet._

You smell like memories if such thing is possible, and candy floss you’d always buy while roaming muggle carnivals and winning every game. You also smell like candles burning late at night or early in the morning sometimes when the two of you stayed up forever reading books and hearing stories that his father had told him a thousand times.

_He absolutely loves how you smell._

Next time he opens his eyes, you’re still all he can see but the smile on your face has almost faltered due to lack of oxygen and the feeling of your ribs possibly crushing under the pressure of his arms around your waist. With a sheepish smile, he lets you go and you can’t help but let out a sigh when your feet touch the ground but his hand never leaves yours.

“Hi,” he whispers it like a secret promise, mouth barely hovering above your hair as he does.

“Hello there…It’s nice seeing you too.”  Your tone is teasing, light and sweet just as you.

He laughs and it’s a loud, breathy sound that you’ve missed so very much. 

“Of course it’s nice seeing you. I missed you so much.”

“Same goes for me, Willy.”

 _Willy._ What a pure perfect sound it is when spoken from your very lips and yet he hasn’t heard it in so long, it almost sounds a bit strange now.

“Please say you’re back permanently…please.”

“You know I can’t say that. As much as I’d like to stay, father awaits back home and I’d have no work here.”

Bill frowns and opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him. 

“What I _can_ promise you though is that I’ll stay long enough for you to grow  
tired of my presence.”

“I would never. I just wish you could have let me know a bit sooner, my week would certainly be better if you did.”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise then, would it?” you beam and he _melts_. “I have your mum to thank for that, she was so lovely to keep it all under wraps until I got here.”

Another sigh escapes him; a rather playful one this time. “Of course she did. Conspiracies seem to be mother’s point of expertise.”

“Oh, hush. You can’t blame her. I only wanted to have a little fun; that’s all.”

“So shocking me brings you joy, huh?”

“You should have picked up on that long ago.”

Bill laughs again, pure joy coursing through his veins. “Come on, little one, let’s get you somewhere to me before the others discover you’re here and steal you away.”

“Oh yes, Mr.Weasley! Do take me away.” you giggle and he mirrors it while interlocking your hands.

Tugging you towards him, he ushers you up the stairs and out his window, climbing the wall before making your way to the roof where the two of you settle like it’s second nature to you. _It is, in so many ways._

You’ve spent hundreds of nights up here, looking up at the stars and stealing glances at each other whenever you managed to sneak away from family dinners on every holiday vacation spent in his home. The constellations shine just as bright tonight while you use your hands to map them and Bill watches with a starstruck look on his face.

“You’ve changed so much.” it’s a whisper from his mouth that almost gets lost in the passing zephyr but your hearing catches it somehow and your head jerks to meet his blue-green orbs peering down at you.

You laugh and lift your head from his lap to smooth his hair, “Says you. You’re not even wearing that earring anymore, Willy. Did the infamous Bill Weasley decide upon toning down his coolness at last?”

He shakes his head but the smile fades from his lips when images of the new pair of scars scathing his face come to mind. You fail to pay any attention to a couple of insignificant scars though. _He’s oh so thankful for that._

“So where will your highness be staying?”

“I haven’t quite figured out that part yet…”

Billy smiles and kisses your nose in affection. “Good, that means you’re staying with us. Under no circumstances would I like to miss out on your snoring, my darling.”

“I don’t snore!”


	2. The Ripple

You sit on Bill’s rather large bed, neatly tucked under the soft, heavy comforter that his mother herself had once crafted. Photo albums lie open here and there in both of your laps and you bite back a sigh at the thought of all your glorious days that seem to only exist inside the depths of your mind and old scraps of paper now.

There’s a grin plastered on your ginger friend’s face and suddenly this feeling of nostalgia fades to nothing but joy when his hand reaches for yours and you get the chance to build memories all over again, right here in this room.

The room that’s housed you thousands of times and welcomed your childhood with wide open arms. The room in which your tears used to echo day after day when you first got your heart torn to pieces by a horrible someone…

The same room where you cheered for your Willy when his house team finally decided to grant him a chance.

Bill takes note of your silence and his thumb seizes its journey mapping the skin on your hand. Instead, it smoothly engulfs yours. Like it was made for this sole purpose. As if they were tailor-made to fit just perfect.

_Both of you notice._

He doesn’t say anything. All he does is flip the page and inch closer, allowing you to see exactly what it is he’s looking at but also close the distance between your huddled bodies. Your head falls on his shoulder like it’s second nature to you and of course, he takes notice of that as well. Yet, he speaks nothing.

He looks back at you and sees that tearful gleam inside your eyes that he had almost forgotten. Your free hand reaches to swiftly grab the picture and bring it closer to your eyes just to inspect it.

Both of you are standing proudly with grins plastered on your faces and Bill’s arms wound around your smaller frame as you look towards the camera. The image moves rather quickly and next thing you see is Bill planting a kiss on your cheek and making you shriek in surprise. Albeit, your smile only grows wider.

It’s such a wonderful memory; a bit childish and pure and seeing it unfold before your eyes almost makes you relive it. Graduation day was the most joyful of times to experience alongside the boy next to you.

 _Man_ , you correct yourself.

This also happens to be the last picture you took before you parted ways; a pair of kids barely turned adults and now released into the world with no maps to navigate it. You still remember that feeling in the pit of your stomach, the wild flutter of butterfly wings somewhere inside you every time you daydreamed of what the future held for you.

Blinking back any tears in your eyes, you look over to Bill who seems rather invested in the photo. There’s a frown on his pale brows that breaks your heart and you ache to make it disappear. You quickly flip through the pages only to stumble upon another picture of the two of you. 

Only in this one you’re both flushing red and half-asleep while it’s taken, tucked under heavy blankets in the hospital ward while the rest of the school is gathered in the Great Hall to celebrate Hallowe’en.

You gently nudge Bill to get his attention and his eyes snap to you in an instant, drowning you in their green warmth. You smile at him and point at the picture, watching his frown be replaced by a grin like your own.

“Oh, I remember that. 1989, at the night of Hallowe’en, right?”

“Right! It’s the one that Ma’am Pomfrey took to, and I quote ‘remember the night’. As if we’d have a hard time remembering otherwise…” you laugh and Bill joins you, breathing out a sigh at the memory.

“The whole feast went down in the books as the best in Hogwarts’ history and we missed it.”

“You were so sick, William! What was it, chicken pox?”

He nods, “The worst thing I’ve ever experienced. I spent almost an entire week paralyzed on that godforsaken bed with Poppy making a fuss whenever I tried to move the slightest bit and mum sending one holler after the other when she didn’t hear back from me. What a nightmare…”

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad. Even Snape let you get off with no homework that month after everyone insisted you were still recovering. And you didn’t spend all of it alone!”

Bill quirks an eyebrow, letting out a small laugh. “It’s not my fault that you decided that convincing Pomfrey that you were sick as well, was a good idea. Don’t get me wrong, I did appreciate the company but looking back, it doesn’t seem like the best course of action.”

You huff, feigning offense with a hand over your heart.

“Well excuse me for being such a selfless friend and sacrificing my own health so that you wouldn’t feel lonely in that horrible, dark, gloomy place…”

“-you mean the hospital ward.”

“Yes, that exact portal to hell. Besides, I _was_ sick… eventually.”

He chuckles, touched by the action now just as much as he was then. His lips find the crown of your head.

You can’t help but sigh in contentment. “I do however still dream about those candy-filled pumpkins.”

Bill watches you lick your lips and lets out a loud laugh, “I guess I owe you one.”

“I’ll hold you up to that.”

He smiles.

“There’s another album somewhere in this mess, I’m sure. Let me take a look…”  
  
You stop him, jumping out of your handmade cocoon. “It’s fine, I’ll get it.”

Tiptoeing among the piles of books and hoarded things, you make your way to his desk. Not straying much from the theme of the room, it’s packed with little things everywhere. You almost cut your hand on a letter opener that’s hidden between the stacks of papers.

Bill freezes immediately when your eyes narrow on a particular pile and your grab at that one parch he should have burned long ago.

_Oh, no._

It was one of his many attempts to write to Fleur, desperate to sneak his way out of this mess that’s unraveled between them. After the Greyback ordeal, their relationship’s torn at the seams, as if a couple of scars was enough to change how she viewed him; how she viewed them.

> _My dear Fleur,_
> 
> _I realize it’s been almost two weeks now since the day you left for France, and although I do understand the circumstances under which you requested some time to think clearly, I can’t help but wonder what exactly the implications are for our future together. The situation is complex, you said, but imagine how it feels for me. If anything, I need you by my side if I’m to figure this out._
> 
> _Pardon me if I seem a bit too blunt with this letter but I fear we can no longer prolong the inevitable. A few months ago I asked you to marry and you agreed but now it seems like something has changed for you._
> 
> _It might be a lot for you to process, but I still need to know where we’re heading._
> 
> _Please come back as soon as possible… I need to see you. We need to talk. I hope you haven’t changed your mind about us._
> 
> _Still yours,_
> 
> _Bill_

You read it time after time, the tension always building up inside the poor man beside you. When the words finally settle in, your grip on the letter loosens and it slowly meets the floor.

You’re looking at Bill with eyes wide like saucers and he swallows the lump in his throat.

“You…You’re engaged?” your voice is but a mutter as if you’re talking to yourself first and foremost.

“I told you before; there’s quite a lot we need to talk about.” He avoids your gaze like it’s a blazing fire.

“Well yes, but I assumed you meant talking ‘bout your trips or how big Ginny has gotten since the last time I saw her, not your bloody engagement to a girl I’ve never even heard about before!”

You raise your voice and he winces. For the first time in all the years knowing you, he can’t quite read your expression and that terrifies him.

“The situation is a little more complicated than it sounds.”

You take a long breath, allowing the frustration to escape through your nostrils. You know Bill well enough to read his expression. There’s desperation written all over his face and it makes your heart burn.

“I’m all ears.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank each and every one of you for your feedback! This series is a favorite of mine and it's going strong, I promise. For similar works or updates on when I'm posting, you can always check out my official writing account in Tumblr @thatlittlered. Sending smooches your way!


	3. Thunderstorm

A boom rolls across the valley, announcing the start of what the brooding cloud layer in the sky has long promised, since dawn. The boughs of the trees in the Weasley garden sway in the strengthening gust, surrendering their leaves without a fight. 

You hear the fire crinkle somewhere inside the room and then come the first drops of rain on the poorly upheld roof. The curious, fearless side of you peeks through the closed shutters to the vegetable patch right outside the window. Bill’s window, to be exact.

Outside it’s dark. The dense grey cloud blocks out any trace of morning light, casting you in premature twilight. Inside the home seems darker, almost black save for the orange tones of the fireplace. Suddenly, you’re very much aware of how alone you are.

The wind is howling through the small opening you’ve left in the window and the door creaks almost eerily. You miss the feeling of Bill’s warm hand lifting the sleeve of your shirt, running up and down your arm in an effort to comfort you like he always does during thunderstorms.

He had slipped out of bed in the middle of the night, the exceptional skills of an Auror coming to use for not making a sound as he left your side. Were he still the teenage boy that snuck into your room in the middle of the night to be in your company, he would have probably knocked something over in an effort to be quiet. 

Yet this version of your Bill is different, polished. A sharp mind and a heart of gold now dressed in the body of a grown man ready to fight his battles.

Still, his sheets smell the same as they envelop you, hiding you from the world until your knight in shining armor returns.

* * *

 

That ginger knight, clad in just his nightwear, has found solace in the empty kitchen. All lights are out, leaving him alone with his thoughts until another figure immerses in the shadows, light emitting from their wand.

“Bill, you scared me! What are you doing down here?”

His timid finger traces the brim of his glass, running circles back and forth. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Is it the noise?”

“Perhaps.”

Molly hums. She knows her son like the back of her hand, perhaps better than anyone ever will. His thoughts are his to decide whether to share and she’s sure he will soon enough. There’s no need for pressure, he has enough on his shoulders as it is.

“Mum, can I ask you something?”

She hums again, taking a seat next to him.

“Why is it that you didn’t tell Y/N about Fleur?”

“Oh, well, it never crossed my mind that I should. It’s not like we talked every day.”

“You probably wrote entire pages to each other yet you forgot to mention my fiancé, whom by the way you dislike? Because that sounds rather convenient.”

“When did you become so suspicious?”

“When you started plotting behind my back, probably.”

She scoffs at that.

“As ridiculous as you may sound when you accuse your own mother of ‘plotting’, you’re right about Fleur. I skipped that part on purpose.”

He makes to stand but she stops him.

“After what happened between the two of you, you were a wreck, sweetheart. I didn’t know what else to do and… well, let’s just say Y/N’s letter arrived with perfect timing. Something told me she was the only one who could you pull out of that dark place. And I was right, look at you!”

“But why not mention my engagement if you expected her to help?”

“Because no matter how hard you try and deny it, most of the time, I know what’s best for you.”

“And that’s Y/N?”

“You doubt it? She’s been here for two days and you haven’t stopped smiling.”

“Even if that’s true, even if you were so sure she was what I needed, that did not give you the right to invite her out here. Not when there’s a war knocking on our door. How could you drag her into this?”

“I did no such thing, William. It seems you haven’t realized you’re not the only who’s changed with time. She’s a grown woman now, fully capable of taking responsibility for her actions and if need be, her life. I have no intention of dragging her into this war. You out of all people know she’s like a daughter to me, but we need to realize that it’s not our place to keep her in the dark.”

“Does she know about The Order as well?”

“She’s not stupid, darling. She may not know all the details but she’s aware something’s happening and she **will** have questions.”

“Which I would know how to answer if for once you’d let me know about it, instead of going behind my back, like you always do.”

“You speak as if I plotted against you!”

“A plot is a plot, mum. You say you know what’s best for everyone and maybe that’s true but it’s not your place to mingle in other people’s lives, especially without their knowledge.”

“Mingle? You’re my son, for Merlin’s sake. I’m supposed to do what’s best for you.”

“Not at all costs, mum. Not like this.”

“Well then, let’s agree to disagree, William. Because believe me when I say that there’s nothing worse than seeing your child in pain and if I have to scheme to prevent that from happening again, I will, thousand times over.”

He stares at her as she stands, tightening the robe around her body. Her hand is soft on his shoulder, tentative. She kisses his cheek, every ounce of motherly love poured in the way her lips press against him.

“Goodnight, William.”

* * *

 

When he returns, he shuts the door behind him carefully. His bare feet are quiet when they hit the floor but when he looks at you, your eyes are wide open. The only source of light in the room is the brilliant shocks of white outside, bright and loud enough to scare you deeper into the cocoon of blankets.

You don’t have to look at him to know he’s smiling.

“Got any room there for me?”

Your head peeks through the covers, hair a mess and eyes watery.

“It’s your bed.”

“It’s your safe place. I would never intrude, you should know that.”

“You could never intrude, Willy.”

His smile is soft when he approaches you, sitting on the corner of the bed as if to test his limits once again. It’s stupid, he already knows he’s your best sense of comfort and yet it’s awfully nice, just like everything else about him. He respects you in a way nobody else does.

His hand looks and feels like worn leather on top of yours, but it’s also warm and you like that. You notice the scars but say nothing. Once again, there has to be a story. You figure it’s a talk for another time.

Your pinkies touch softly, barely rubbing against each other. It’s a thing that you do, an embrace of sorts when people are watching. And now that there’s no one else here, you still do it.

“Scoot over.” 

Bill’s lips meet your temple and you do.

“Should I get us a lantern?”

His words are whispers. You almost sigh at the warmth of his body against yours, or the fact that he chose to lie on your left to block your view of the window.

“I’ll be fine as long as you hold me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

You laugh and your eyes laugh with you. He takes in that image before you bury your face in his shirt and wrap your body around his.

“Shush now, we’re sleeping.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Goodnight, you goof.”

“Sweet dreams, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna apologize for taking so long to update. Mental health is a difficult subject to approach so I'm not gonna get too much into that, what matters is that I'm better now. I'm so thrilled to be back at writing! Please, please, please go check out my other works. More exciting things are coming very soon.


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